


Whipped

by JamtheDingus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (keith went through another time skip so now he's 5 years older), Aged-Up Character(s), Lonely Hunk (Voltron), M/M, Mature Keith (Voltron), Thanksgiving, Time Skips, food coma, vaguely Pining Hunk (Voltron), what an odd grouping of tags together tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: Blinking back at him are two pairs of purple eyes, and one pair of yellow, fuzzy ones. Hunk preemptively grins and hurries to unlatch the locks, throwing the door open harder than necessary. “Keith!”Keith, who looks even taller than the last time Hunk had seen him. Keith, who was nervously toying with a bundle of flowers half-crushed against his palm, though he was careful with the petals.Keith, who hasn’t been on Earth in about three years, seven months.---Hunk welcomes Keith, Krolia, and Kosmo over for Thanksgiving. Honorable mention: a love confession.





	Whipped

**Author's Note:**

> you..... may have to read a little between the lines here.... i kinda dissociated like... a Shit Ton writing this aldsjlahdsl also its barely edited so...... YEAH
> 
> ANYWAY hope u enjoy!!! happy turkey day! 
> 
> slightly based off a tweet by My Friend, peachie!!! [@s_peachxv](https://twitter.com/s_peachxv) on twitter

A knock to the door echoes through Hunk’s little one bedroom cottage, startling him out of his daze. He wipes his hands clean on his apron and sets it on the hook that’s sitting on the back of his pantry door, reminding himself to throw it in the wash before the old food crusts over and makes a home in the fibers.

He steals a dollop of whipped cream from one of the pies sitting on the table as he passes, as he’s done about twenty times now. It was only missing a few pieces, but to any outsiders it would be obvious that he was much more interested in the topping.

When he gets to the door he’s licking the sticky away from his lips, hurriedly smoothing his hair back with his clean hand as he peeks out the window.

Blinking back at him are two pairs of purple eyes, and one pair of yellow, fuzzy ones. Hunk preemptively grins and hurries to unlatch the locks, throwing the door open harder than necessary. “Keith!”

Keith, who looks even taller than the last time Hunk had seen him. Keith, who was nervously toying with a bundle of flowers half-crushed against his palm, though he was careful with the petals.

Keith, who hasn’t been on Earth in about three years, seven months.

“Hey, Hunk.” Keith says, warm like bread on a summer day. He hands the bouquet over, and Hunk quickly stashes it in the vase he keeps beside the door, just on the cabinet above where he stores his shoes. “It’s been a while.”

“Mm. You haven’t changed one bit.” Hunk says, all smiles. He leans against the door frame, half-forcing himself not to look him up and down. “How’s space?”

“Still cold.”

Keith awkwardly shuffles his feet, and Hunk hurries to step aside, ushering the trio inside. The trio that is Keith, along with his mother and his space wolf, neither of whom Hunk has greeted yet.

He feels himself flush hot across the back of his neck, and he hurries to extend his palm towards Krolia. “Nice to see you again, Keith’s mom. Uh, ma’am.”

She, along with Kosmo, only seem faintly amused about being briefly forgotten. “Nice to see you again, Hunk.” She echoes back, shaking his palm up and down once, before tugging him into a side hug. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“I’m surprised you remembered what Thanksgiving was.” Keith mumbles under his breath. Krolia’s ears twitch in his direction, and her smile only grows around the edges. But, like… smirkier. Hunk’s seen Keith’s smile do that hundreds of times over the years.

It always warmed Hunk how alike the two of them ended up, for some reason.

Kosmo bumps into his shins, completely on purpose as he stares expectantly at Hunk’s hands. Hunk obediently drops to his level and begins their long-run tradition of Hunk scratching at Kosmo’s belly until his leg shakes. Turns out that, alien or not, it was still a thing for all canines.

“ _What a good boy— yes you are."_ Hunk baby-talks, complete with smooches across Kosmo’s chin. “Oh, so _handsome_ , aren’t you? _Aren’t you_?”

Kosmo licks Hunk right across the nose, and he pulls back with a spluttering laugh. When he looks up, the two aliens in his foyer are smiling back.

“You guys can head into the kitchen. Already got everything laid out. Shiro was here earlier, so you may have missed out on the cornbread and mac ‘n cheese, but…” He shrugs, pushing himself to stand. “I’m sure I can make some more if you’re planning on sticking around for longer.”

“I didn’t realize we’d come so late.” Krolia hums, half under her breath. She leads the way to the kitchen, maybe following her nose, or maybe she remembers from the last few times she’d been over three years ago. “Have we missed everyone?”

Hunk pulls up two chairs for them from the dining room. Their mismatched in cushions, and one of the legs is wobbly but Hunk’s wrists had been hurting from overuse for so long that he’d put it on the backest of back burners.

As they sit, he goes to find plates and utensils. And drinks. “Nah, you didn’t miss much.” None of his cups are clean, so he hurries to pull a pair from the pile in the sink to wash. “It was more or less just Shiro, this time.”

“Lance didn’t come?” Keith asks, already munching on a piece of turkey. It makes Hunk happy that he’d decided to pre-slice the thing this year before he served it, even if it meant it’d get colder a little faster. “Or Pidge?”

“Not this time.” Hunk sighs, overdramatic. “Guess they forgot about little old me.”

Krolia snorts, though she hides her expression under the pretense of covering her chewing with her hand. Hunk sets the two clean cups in front of them and sidles over to the fridge to set out a few pitchers of what was left of the beverages. Mostly just lemonade and spiked fruit juice, but there was one cup left of the sweet tea.

Keith, though, looks troubled as he chews through another piece of turkey. Hunk slides the last remaining leg onto his plate. “Did they really forget?”

Bless his heart, that Keith. Hunk laughs, stealing a sip of Keith’s juice before he steps away to start loading the dishwasher (for the, like, twelfth time that day).

“I’m kidding! Pidge spent the holidays with the Holt family. Which, I guess is fair since she _is_ a Holt. I think they went to a space station?”

“Of course.” Keith rolls his eyes. He smiles, though, and leans forward against the counter. Hunk can see from the corner of his eye how his hand hesitates before it reaches for his glass, but he inevitably does take a sip. The way he licks his lips, though, makes Hunk a bit embarrassed. Curious about the taste— and he’s not 100% sure if it’s just because of the juice.

He hurries on with his explanation, if only to keep his shy mind off it.

“Lance is still out with his family on that _Spectacular Worldwide Lance-tour_.” Hunk lets a couple spoons drop into the utensil box and dries a few suds off his hands before he does the signature, Lance-branded jazz hands to go along with it.

Krolia snickers, and it turns into a full-blown laugh when Hunk twists at the hip to do the finger guns that Lance had added.

“So, it was basically just me this year.” Hunk carries on, winking at Krolia. She shoves a dinner roll in her mouth in response, pointedly looking in Keith’s direction. “Well, I also mentioned Shiro, but he left pretty earlier. Captainly duties, ‘n all that.”

Hunk claps his hands, suddenly remembering: “Oh, he also video-called with Allura, Coran, and Romelle! They couldn’t come themselves, but I made sure to have him bring back a bunch of tupperware containers for them.”

With the dishes done, Hunk has nothing else to do with his hands. He leans against the table opposite of his two guests and beams at them. “It’s nice seeing you two, though. It’s been so long since you’ve been on Earth, huh? Especially after Voltron.”

“Much too long.” Krolia agrees. Keith nods, silent beside her. She nudges at him with her thigh, but he only nods harder.

Hunk steals another sip of his fruit juice.

The two of them, Hunk and Krolia, quickly fall into small-talk soon after. Kosmo more or less is allowed to pick from Keith’s plate, until Hunk gets them both their own, and Kosmo gets his own spot beneath their feet. Hunk makes sure to pepper a few extra helpings of potato salad for him. Kosmo _loved_ the stuff.

Hunk learns a few new things that evening. One is that Krolia _hates_ sweet potatoes of all things— though it comes as a surprise to her as well as the other two. Hates it so much that she actually steals a napkin to spit it out when she thinks Hunk isn’t looking.

Another is that the two of them had gone on _another_ time-journey. Turns out that instead of Keith being two years older than him, he was now _five_. When Hunk learns it, he throws his hands above his head and good-naturedly shakes his fist at Keith. “I oughta keep you here on my couch ‘til I catch up again.”

“But you’ll never catch up.” Keith says, behind a bite of pie. His mouth is half-curved in amusement.

“Guess you’ll never leave, then.” Hunk says, haughtily. The thought makes his tummy squirm, though, and Hunk is old enough to not let himself think about it too deep. For now.

Krolia ends up getting a bit tipsy off the fruit punch, and she and Kosmo drop onto said couch nearly an hour after their arrival, drowsy. Hunk briefly leaves Keith alone in the kitchen to find a throw pillow and a quilt for her, though she doesn’t really need either. The space-suit keeps her plenty warm, and the couch was overstuffed for a reason. Still, though, it makes him feel better.

He turns the television on low for background noise, on a cartoon channel, and he’s still laughing at one of the slip-stack jokes as he circles back to Keith.

Hunk gathers the few and new dishes that remain, dropping them into the sink. Keith is still munching away, so he doesn’t deep clean too much— only wipes at the spot where Krolia sat with a rag. The dishwasher is stuffed full and running, so he busies himself with hand-washing.

He can feel Keith’s eyes on his back the entire time, even as the sun finally dips behind the treeline in Hunk’s backyard and probably blinds him.

Hunk wipes the nervous sweat that hide gathered at his chin. When he turns, Keith’s grey-purple eyes are fixated on him still. He’s picking at his plate, thoughtful in the way he slices his fork between mashed potato, and it shouldn’t be so intimidating— but Hunk technically hadn’t seen the guy in _five years_.

He flops into Krolia’s abandoned seat, suddenly tired.

“Thanks for the food.” Keith says, quiet. “Sorry it’s been so long.”

“Oh!” Hunk startles. For a moment, he’s worried that he’d been broadcasting his thoughts aloud, but Keith doesn’t have that playful look— only dead serious. “No, it’s fine! You’ve been busy. Everyone has, really. And, I mean… Voltron was forever ago, but space still needs help, probably. I’m glad you and Krolia are still going at it.”

“Didn’t realize no one else was visiting, though. Is it always so empty?”

“Only in the recent year or so. It’s a little hard to get everyone situated in one spot, you know?” Hunk sighs. “I always feel so… _stagnant_ compared to you all.”

Keith fixes him with a look. “Hunk, you’re doing incredible things. You were head engineer of the _Atlas_ of all things, and you basically pioneered the entire industry. Just because you work from home doesn’t mean you’re stagnant.”

Hunk flusters. Keith leans closer, shoving his plate to the side to instead turn completely to Hunk. “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner.”

“It’s fine, Keith.” Hunk laughs, nervous at the sudden, full-force attention being tossed his way. “I… didn’t realize you kept up with me so much, though.”

“We’re friends.” He reminds, gently. Hunk tries not to wince at the word. “I like to keep tabs.”

“For murder?”

Keith doesn’t laugh at the joke, but Hunk does— loudly. It’s his nerves.

A palm comes to rest atop his, stopping his nervous fidgeting. It’s warm, heavy, and does nothing to stop Hunk’s heart from racing.

“I’m glad to see you again.” Keith slowly says, choosing his words. “I looked forward to it.”

“To seeing me?” Hunk laughs again, shaky.

“Yes.” Keith admits, half shrugging. He doesn’t pull his hand away, and his eyes are just intense as Hunk remembers them being.

He opens his hand, and Keith twists their fingers together, looking them palm-to-palm.

Before he can calm himself down completely, Keith obliterates him with his finishing statement of, “I missed you.”

Hunk shoves himself away from the table, blinking back the prickling hot tears that suddenly grip at his eyelashes. Keith lets him go, untroubled by letting Hunk have his space.

Hunk is grateful for it, standing over the sink. He turns the water on, to atleast pretend that he isn’t a grown man crying over someone saying that they missed him. Implying that they loved him.

It’s been so long since Hunk let himself think about Keith saying those specific words to him— about love— that he isn’t properly prepared with a response.

Keith gives him time. He finishes his plate, nearly has finished off the entire turkey, actually, though it was only about half-gone when he’d first arrived.

Hunk takes a shuddering inhale, clearing his throat, and keeps his back turned as he rambles, “Are you implying what I think you are? Or am I getting the wrong message here? Because I’ll be honest— even though it’s been a while I, uh… I’m still sensitive, you know? And I don’t like having my feelings played with, even if it’s a misunderstanding.”

Before he can go on for a half a page, Keith’s chair wobbles and scrapes across the linoleum. Hunk stays facing the window above the kitchen sink, but he does turn off the water. His fingers had already started to prune with how long he’d kept them under the faucet.

Fingers trace along his back, gentle and light. Testing. When he doesn’t pull away, the rest of the hand joins in and rubs a slow, warm circle across until Keith can rest it against his hip. He finds a spot to Hunk’s right, nestling in on the curve of Hunk’s back.

“I’m implying that I like you. Love you, actually.”

“Bold words.” Hunk mumbles, before he can stop himself. Keith doesn’t flinch back— and instead Hunk feels a rolling rumble of a laugh building in Keith’s chest.

“Guess so. I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

He doesn’t take it back, though, and Hunk doesn’t have anywhere to hide the dopey grin that makes itself known on his lips.

Keith inches even closer, until Hunk is firmly nestled between him and the sink. Keith’s other arm comes to wrap across his front, hugging him close, and Hunk feels a content sigh grow in his chest, wrapping first around his heart before it circles around his spinal cord and settles on his tongue.

“How did you know I felt the same way?”

Keith presses his forehead against the back of Hunk’s, at the very apex of the curve of his skull. Hunk feels a kiss pressed there, even above the thick layers of half-combed curls. He’d let it grow out over the years, and apparently the longer it grew, the curlier it liked to get. Hunk didn’t mind much, and by the way Keith leans into it— neither did he.

“Lucky guess.” He says, eventually. It sounds like a Keith-joke, and Hunk huffs, only half-irritated.

And maybe it’s the few sips of alcohol in the form of fruit punch that he’d stolen, but Hunk turns in Keith’s grip and looks up at him. It’s _foreign_ , because Keith had always _always_ been shorter than him— even after his first growth spurt. Galra genes, probably.

Keith looks back, shadows half-hiding him. The dark always crept in so quickly in the secluded area Hunk chose to live, and while he didn’t usual mind, it made him feel like a bunny in the middle of a field knowing that Keith could see him so clearly, and he only got half the picture from him.

He’s still feeling brave, though, as he dips forward to kiss him.

 

\---

 

In the end, they don’t have a full make-out session in the kitchen. As much as he initiates it, Hunk is far too embarrassed (and also, much more of a Chef than a romantic to debauch his kitchen like that).

After Keith laughs at him for turning red like a sunburnt tomato, and instead tugs him into the living room. The TV had auto-shutoff, but Hunk turns it on again as they settle on the squeaky recliner off to the side of where Krolia and Kosmo are still peacefully in their food comas. Kosmo hadn’t even twitched when they came in.

“Guess it’s a good thing you always cooked for us and not the bad guys.” Keith teases. He keeps it low, but that just adds extra timbre to his voice, and Hunk can hardly stand it. He still laughs, though.

They settle in to watch early Christmas movies, Hunk sitting atop Keith’s lap in the recliner. When Keith tugs him down to steal another dozen or so kisses between commercials, Hunk doesn’t much mind this time.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @[jamthedingus](http://jamthedingus.tumblr.com/) and twitter [@jamthedingus](https://twitter.com/jamthedingus)
> 
> /dab/


End file.
